Every Combination
by Sienna Frills
Summary: AU.1947. Bella Swan, Edward Masen, Rosalie Hale, Emmett McCarty, Alice Brandon, and Jasper Whitlock are all staying at Cullen House- a boarding house in New York City- and they all have mysterious pasts they're hiding- for now.
1. Cullen House

_ Every Combination_

* * *

**Cullen House**  
_Bella_

_I've never been outside of Arizona, but I had hoped that I would travel one day._ I dreamed of leaving Phoenix to see the world, and then of being able to return to my wonderful and hot city, with amazing sights to remember at home. And I'm traveling now. I'm leaving Arizona and all of the west coast for New York City. I just- I never dreamed it would happen like this. I never wanted to travel because I had been driven away by tragedy. I didn't want to feel such a heaviness- didn't want to miss my parents so terribly. But I don't have a choice in the matter- there was a fire and we had to leave the city. While my parents are back in Arizona, trying to find a new neighborhood, house, and jobs, I've been sent to live in the city on my own. Because they have friends in the city. Because I'm an adult now. Because they don't want me to see the struggle and loss of peace the fire left behind. Because they trust me and have faith in me.

I _can_ do this.

The cab pulls up in front of an old little apartment building and the driver looks around at me expectantly.

I just stare back at him until he asks, "This it?"

I look at the building and see that the number is right- 289- but how am I supposed to know what street I'm even on? How do I know if I'm even in the right part of the city?

"Yes," I tell the driver anyway. "This is great- thanks."

I'm about to get out of the car when the driver clears his throat. I look at him and he says, "The fare, miss."

A hot blush creeps up my neck and face and I smile a little sheepishly. He tells me the price and I rummage through my bag and give him the money and a small tip. He nods to me and I grab my suitcases from the seat next to me and manage to get out of the cab- dropping one of my bags on the sidewalk in the process. Somehow, it unlatches itself and skirts and blouses tumble out onto the sidewalk. I slam the door behind me, and the cab pulls away as I kneel down and quickly stuff all of my things back into my suitcase, feeling my face burn with embarrassment and frustration.

"Miss Bella Swan?"

I look up and see a dark-skinned man with long, black hair- held back in a ponytail- coming around the side of the building in a wheel chair. Pushing him is a younger version of himself- boyish and bright-eyed.

"Is that little Bella Swan?" the man in the wheel chair asks.

I shove the last of my blouses into the suitcase and jam it closed, standing up and smoothing down the lap of my skirt.

"Well, I'll be darned," the man says. "You've grown into a fine young woman, Bella."

I smile a little awkwardly, saying, "Thank you."

"Jacob here spotted the cab the second it pulled up," the man says, gesturing to the young man behind him. "He shot us out here in record time."

I continue to smile.

"You haven't seen me since you were about six years old- when Jacob and I left Washington state," the man says, sounding sympathetic to the awkwardness I feel. "Let me reintroduce myself for you- I'm Billy Black."

I nod, suddenly relieved. I was hoping this was my father's friend and his son- two people I haven't seen in years- and not just two people who are pretending to know me and my name.

"And this is Jacob," Billy says, gesturing to the young man who is smiling widely behind him. "He's just a year younger than you."

I smile and nod at Jacob, saying, "I remember."

"Welcome to good ol' New York, Bella!" Billy says, spreading his arms wide. "Whatd'ya think?"

I look around the street- old and a little shabby- and shrug, saying, "I haven't seen too much of it yet."

"We'll have to fix that- won't we, Jacob?"

Jacob nods and grins at me.

"I'm sure you'll be wanting to get on to the boarding house though, right?" Billy asks me.

Nodding again- while shrugging a little too- I admit, "I _am_ a little tired."

"All right then," Billy says enthusiastically. "Wheel on, Jacob."

Jacob starts pushing his father down the sidewalk, and I follow along side them, holding my suitcases firmly in my hands now.

"How's your dad holding up, Bella?" Billy asks me as we walk.

I resist the urge to sigh and say, "He was doing okay when I left."

This isn't entirely true. My father was stressed out and anxious when I left. Though, he's better than my mom, who's gotten extremely depressed since the fire. I refrain from telling Billy this though.

"That's good to hear," Billy says as we reach a corner and turn left. "That fire sure made a mess out of everything, huh?" he asks, his voice sympathetic and remorseful.

I nod. It was a huge fire- violent and rampant- and it devastated a good bunch of office buildings, houses, stores, and apartments. Our house, Dad's private investigation offices, and the bakery Mom worked in were all victim.

"You're coming in at a good time though," Billy says, trying to be optimistic and bright for me. "The Cullens just opened the boarding house and you're their first boarder."

I smile awkwardly again.

"Dr. Cullen works at the hospital, but they never had kids, so they've decided to take in boarders and take care of them like children, I guess," Billy says amiably. "Though, I don't know how much they're going to baby you, Bella- they might leave you alone a good portion of the time."

"That's fine," I reply. "I'll be working as soon as I can find a job," I tell him.

Billy nods, "That's right, I forgot." After a beat of silence, he says, "Anyway- Dr. and Mrs. Cullen are very nice people. You'll feel right at home at the boarding house."

I nod and smile again, hoping that he's right.

* * *

"Welcome to Cullen House, Miss Swan," Dr. Cullen says, opening the door wide to let me in. "Do you need any help Mr. Black?" he calls to Billy as I carefully ascend the stairs and enter the entrance hall.

"I'm all right, Dr. Cullen, thanks," Billy calls. "Jacob and I will be getting on home. You take care of yourself Bella- and stop by at any time, let us know if you need anything!"

I reluctantly nod and smile, and even though I don't want them to leave me just yet, I call, "Thank you very much, Mr. Black! Good-bye Jacob!"

As they turn on the sidewalk, Dr. Cullen closes the door and turns to me, smiling warmly. He's young- younger than I expected- with blonde hair and dark blue eyes. He's dressed in a light blue dress shirt, tan pants, and a dark blue tie. Everything about him and the house is welcoming and friendly, and I feel myself ease up a little.

"Is she here-" a woman all but bounds into the room. "She is!"

She's only a little taller than me, slender and soft, with a heart-shaped face, caramel-colored hair, and hazel eyes.

"Hello, Bella," she says, smiling warmly at me in her pencil skirt and sweater.

"Hello, Mrs. Cullen-"

She cuts me off, saying, "Please, call me Esme."

"Esme," I say softly.

"Would you like to see your room?" she asks me.

I nod.

She takes one of my bags, tells Dr. Cullen that she'll take care of everything, and then leads me up a flight of stairs. As we climb, she says, "You know, Bella, we're so glad to have you here."

"I'm grateful that you're taking me in, Mrs. Cul- Esme," I amend, as she looks at me with a reproachful smile.

"Billy came to us as soon as we opened up the house and told us about the fire," she says, her voice sympathetic and motherly. "We were happy we could help you."

We reach the landing and she walks to the second door and opens it up. I follow her inside and look around. The room is small, but nice. It's painted white, with light, lace curtains on the window that faces onto the back yard. There's a nicely made bed against one wall, and a dresser and mirror against the other. On my night table is a lamp, and on the dresser is a vase full of sweet-smelling lilacs.

"I hope this is okay," she says.

"This is perfect," I tell her, setting one suitcase down on the floor next to my bed.

Esme puts the other suitcase next to it. When she straightens up she says, "Uh- let's see. The bathroom is right next door, there's a phone downstairs in the alcove in the hall...." She thinks for a minute, "And I think that's it. There's no curfew or anything."

I nod.

"Oh! Breakfast is at eight, lunch is between twelve and one, and dinner is at six," she tells me.

I take this in and nod again.

She smiles sympathetically at me and gently- like my own mother would- rubs my upper arm, saying, "And honey, don't worry about rent for the first week or so. We know you're new in the city and you're going through a hard time."

"You don't have to-"

"Just get whatever money you can get to us when you can," she says gently. "Don't lose sleep over it, okay?"

Reluctantly- but gratefully- I nod.

She smiles again and says, "I'll leave you to get settled. Just let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you," I say, and she quietly leaves the room.

When I'm all alone I sit down on the bed and sigh.

Looking around my room, I realize that this is home now- whether I'm ready or not- and I suddenly wish I didn't feel so lonely.

* * *


	2. A Place to Hide

_Every Combination_

* * *

**A Place to Hide  
**_Rosalie_

It's warm, and a little humid, as I walk through the city, but the cold that chills me from the inside out doesn't go away. I huddle in on myself, feeling the goosebumps sprouting up all over my body again, and I shiver. As I walk, I realize how sore I am- how badly I'm bruised and aching. From the outside, I know I look normal- still pretty, even, because I made sure I looked okay when I left- but I feel like I'm rotting from the outside in, and then back again. It's like I've been poisoned and it's only going to ruin all of me, slowly, painfully, but surely. I cringe as everything fills up my brain again- making me almost stumble, before righting myself and pushing forward. I need a place to stay, I need some kind of place to hide.

"You need a cab, missy?"

I turn to the cab driver who's sticking half of himself out of his window, driving his cab slowly in the street, waiting for a reply, looking me up and down appreciatively.

Bile rises up my throat, and I swallow hard. "No," I snap, and he shrugs, before finally pulling away.

It's early evening, and the sun is lowering itself below the rooftops of New York, lighting the sky with brilliant salmon hues. When I left Rochester this morning the sun wasn't even up yet, and the sky had been a bruised purple color. It had also been colder there. And now- now that I'm in this alien city, my whole life reversed and flipped upside down, I feel as if I'm walking through some kind of strange dream- like none of this could be real. Except, I know it is.

Walking down another unfamiliar street, I pass a cafe with outdoor seating. A young man stares at me unabashedly as I walk past, and I slump forward slightly. I can hear my mother berating me for my poor posture, but I can't think of her right now- it's too painful, too wrong, and yet it makes me think of my father, of my brothers, of what they would do if they knew the truth, of what they'll do when they realize I'm gone, and it makes all of my injuries hurt even more.

So I slouch, shivering as the man's head swivels to watch me walk away.

_Don't play games, Rose._

I wince.

_Come on- Come on! You know you want it- it's why you're such a tease!_

My stomach constricts and I swallow hard.

I walk faster, harder, shutting my mind to the memories and the words. Don't think about it Rosalie, you're starting over- it never happened.

"Can I help you, honey?"

I look up and, to my relief, there is an older woman sitting on a stoop, watching two children play on the sidewalk, and holding a smaller boy on her lap. This is a mother, a kind, trustworthy woman. I can ask her where I can go. This is someone I can feel comfortable being near.

Managing a smile for her, I say, "Yes, that would be great." I glance up the street, and then turn to her and ask, "I'm new in town and I was wondering if you knew of a nice apartment building with a room for rent or even a reasonable hotel...."

"Well, if you want a hotel you'll probably have to go uptown a bit," she tells me, bouncing the baby on her knees. "There's a boarding house on the street over- just opened, with plenty of rooms- run by Dr. and Mrs. Cullen."

A sigh of relief relaxes me.

"You just go to the end of this block, make a left, and then another- onto the next street," she explains. "It's an older brick building- there's a sign in the window. You can't miss it."

I nod, smiling again and saying, "Thank you so much," and I head on my way.

Cullen House is a little old, but not run-down- Thank God!- and it's the only brick building on the block, so I don't miss it. However, when I find it, I stand on the sidewalk for a few long moments, holding my bags and staring at the sign in the window of the door that says 'Rooms for Rent.' The finality of what I'm about to do makes me sweat and shake, because I know this could all be over in a few minutes. If I wanted to, I could find a phone, call Daddy, tell him I went to New York City on a pre-wedding whim and that I'm coming home. I could be in back home tonight, in my bed, properly scolded, but back in my life.  
_  
Don't play games, Rose._

But I could never tell them what happened- about Royce and what he did- and that means I'd have to marry him and pretend like nothing ever went wrong, or else call off the wedding without truthfully explaining why. But after seeing what my ex-fiance is capable of, I don't think I want to know what he'd do if I did that.

No. I know I can't go back, and that's it. I have to start a new life in this city. Nothing else.

So, taking a deep breath, I walk up the steps and ring the bell.

* * *

There's only one other person actually boarding at Cullen House right now, a pale, puny girl with nondescript brown hair and eyes, named Bella. Though Mrs. Cullen introduced us as soon as I was granted a room, I paid her no mind. I'm not in New York City to make friends- truthfully, I want to be around people as little as possible right now- and it's not like I'm going to giggle with her and offer to braid her hair, so why should I put on an act? Regardless, her room is two doors away from mine, and I'm hoping this boarding house fills up fast, because I don't like being one of two people staying here.

When Mrs. Cullen leaves me alone in my room though, I'm allowed to absorb the privacy I so desperately want, and the loneliness I'm so hungry for and afraid of right now. I put my things down and sit on the bed, breathing out heavily, feeling my body ache and my head start to throb with stress and exhaustion.

Reaching a hand up to run through my hair, I glimpse a sparkle, and I look at my left hand. Right there, still on my second finger from the left, is my engagement ring, ostentatious and beautiful, gleaming in the pink-toned light spilling into my room. At the sight of it, my chest tightens and a frightful feeling rises up my body, lodging itself in my throat. My eyes burn and I feel the memories wash over me, dangerous and rapid, like quick knife wounds to the heart. I keep the sob inside me as my body begins to shake and my chin begins to quiver.

_Come on- Come on! You know you want it- it's why you're such a tease!_

Before I know what I'm doing, I grab the ring off of my finger and chuck it at the wall across from me, ignoring it as it clinks to the floor.

Instead of even looking at it, I turn from the room and spread out on the bed, my face buried in this new pillow, inhaling the smell of roses as I start to shake more violently, flashbacks washing over me, guilt filling me up, embarrassment crawling under my skin, and anger twisting itself apart through it all.

I feel as if I'm being pushed into the street again- like I can feel the pavement against my back, scraping and rubbing raw during the whole ordeal. The nausea rises up inside me again, the panic ever-present, and I cry harder. I clamp my whole body tightly together, afraid I'm going to throw up or fall apart.

All I want is my mother or my best friend, and I know that, now, that's not possible.

I've left my life behind and I can't go back to it- not ever, not after what happened to me.

And because of all of this, I let myself cry and shake and fall apart piece by piece, until I'm all cried out. And when I'm too tired to even think about sobbing again, I fall asleep.

* * *


	3. Apart from Texas

**_ Every Combination_**

* * *

**Apart from Texas  
**_Jasper  
_

_I'm originally from Texas, but they sent me to New York City when I was injured in Belgium._ And while I missed home, I honestly didn't care where I was at that point, as long as I was somewhere they could help me- somewhere where there were people who could make the pain stop. Because by the time I got to New York City- after having spent a month and a half in an overcrowded and poorly-staffed hospital in France- I was worse off than when I had entered the hospital, and I was sure nothing would ever change for the better, that I would probably lose my leg after everything. But then, in the G.I. ward of the New York City hospital, I was put under the care of Dr. Cullen, and he changed everything.

The first night I was there I had a fever, my leg was practically radiating with pain, and my whole body was shaking and sweating. I didn't complain about it because I didn't really notice I had a fever or that anything was amiss until I was too far gone to complain politely. But before I knew what was happening, I was clutching at my still-bandaged leg, groaning loudly, my eyes blurry from watering so much, with nurses and attendants fluttering around me.

"What's wrong?" a young nurse asked. "What is it?"

Through gritted teeth, I managed to say, "M-Miss, my leg."

She made a move to touch my leg, but I groaned so loudly she pulled back.

"Get Doctor Cullen!" another woman said to the girl. "Get Doctor Cullen- Go!"

At that point, I hadn't met Dr. Cullen- didn't even know who he was- and my brain felt so suddenly fried that I couldn't focus on what they were saying.

"Can I do anything for you?" the same woman asked. "Tell me how I can help you."

I just shook my head and clenched my jaw, slumping back against my pillows, writhing slightly, my brain swimming and my body perspiring profusely.

"What's going on?" a new, deep, and in-control voice asked. "What's happened?"

"Doctor Cullen, he was fine- he just started groaning and shaking," the nurse said. "It's his leg."

I heard the same male voice ask, "How long has he been here?"

"He only arrived from France this afternoon," the younger woman said.

Suddenly, someone was leaning over me, their hand somewhere near my shoulder, their voice just over my ear.

"Son, I need you to open your eyes and talk to me."

I did as I was told, wrenching my eyes open and looking up through bleary eyes at the blonde man standing over me with equal parts concern and professionalism.

"Tell me your name," he commanded firmly.

But I couldn't think straight. My leg was pulsating with pain, my head pounding ridiculously- and I just noticed that my mouth was dry and thick.

"Your name."

I swallowed with difficulty and said, "Jasper- Jasper Wh-Whitlock."

"Jasper, can you tell me how you're feeling?"

"My leg- God, it _hurts_," I said, sitting up and clutching at it again. "And everything's hot and my head...."

Dr. Cullen turned to the nurses and attendants around him, "Was no one monitoring him?"

They all looked back at him sheepishly and guiltily, because no one had checked on me since I had arrived.

"It's an infection," he announced. Then, as the group around me scattered to get to work helping Dr. Cullen, he put a comforting hand on my arm and said, "Don't worry son, we're going to help you."

And help me he did. Within a month's time, any trace of infection was gone and the damage that the French doctor's had done was repaired. Whereas, I had entered the G.I. ward, sure that I would lose a limb and live the rest of my life in a wheelchair, Dr. Cullen had saved my life and saved my leg. He even made sure to oversee my recovery himself, until the day I was able to walk completely again, with only the slightest trace of a limp.

"What are your plans for when you're discharged, son?" he asked, sitting me down on my bed again. "Do you have family in New York?"

I shook my head and said, "No sir, my family's in Texas."

"Are you planning on going back to Texas?"

I thought about it- thought about my father and his stories of hard work, pride, and victory, of my mother, quiet and subservient on the porch of our farmhouse, of my four older sister's, all married with babies, doing their duty in life by my parents. I thought about returning home to live in the farmhouse again, to help my father in the fields, a wounded soldier who didn't accomplish anything in Europe- a soldier who failed his country, regardless of the war's outcome. And it was then that I realized I didn't want to go back to Texas just yet. Sitting in front of Carlisle's confident and fatherly presence, I decided that I would stay in New York until I was ready to return. I had never done anything so selfish before, but I couldn't help but need to be a little selfish then.

I shook my head when I decided, saying, "No, I think I'd like to stay in New York."

"Do you have any friends or help here?" he asked.

Again, I shook my head- regretfully this time- and said, "No, sir."

Dr. Cullen looked at me for a moment- as if trying to figure something out- and then he said, "Tell you what, Mr. Whitlock, my wife and I are starting up a boarding house not far from here." He pulled out a small pad of paper and a pen from his coat pocket, scribbling on it as he continued, "You come right on over when we let you out of here, and you can stay there until you get yourself settled."

"Doctor Cullen, I couldn't-"

"You can start paying rent as soon as you get your feet on the ground," he told me, ripping the paper off the pad and handing it to me with a stern but kind look in his eyes.

I stared down at the address written on the paper in my hands, and then I looked up at Dr. Cullen, saying, "Thank you very much, sir, I really appreciate this."

"You're welcome," he nodded, replacing the pad and the pen in his pocket. "Keep off that leg as much as possible- we're gonna keep you here for a little longer."

I nodded and watched as he turned and went to check on another patient a few beds away.

And now, a week later, I'm standing on the sidewalk, staring down at the paper again, looking up to make sure the address on it and the number on the building match. They do, and so I take a deep breath, carry my one suitcase with me up the front steps, and ring the bell.

After only a moment, a pretty woman with slightly curled light caramel hair and big, sweet brown eyes, answers the door with a smile. Opening the screen door for me, she says, "Jasper Whitlock?"

I nod, replying, "That's me, ma'am."

"I'm Esme- Doctor Cullen's wife- come in, come in," she says, stepping aside for me to enter. I duck into the house and stand by in the foyer as she closes the door, turning to me and gesturing beyond the stairs, saying, "We were just having lunch if you'd like to join us."

Looking past the stairs, I see the open doorway of a kitchen, and a table set up for three. Two young women are seated there, a beautiful blonde who is glaring at us, sitting stiffly in her seat, and a timid-looking brunette who smiles at us unsurely.

"No, thank you ma'am," I reply. "They served lunch before I left."

She nods with a smile, saying, "Of course. Would you like to see your room?"

"That would be great, ma'am, thank you," I nod.

Mrs. Cullen starts up the stairs and I follow behind her quietly, ready to live a life completely separate from Texas- ready to rebuild what the war shook to pieces.

* * *


End file.
